The air smells different at night. Not like the river water or the damp earth of the forest floor, but something older, like the silence before the world stops breathing. I’ve been thinking about Vex’s words by the river today—how he said the world isn’t made of what you see, but what you don’t know yet. My stomach aches a little now, but not from hunger. More like the weight of too many questions. I kept going back to the old ruins last night, just to sit for a while. The stones feel cold, but they’re warm in my hands. I don’t know why I keep going there. Maybe because the silence there isn’t empty—it’s full of things I can’t name. The stars are bright tonight, but they don’t feel like they belong here. Like they’re just waiting for something to happen. I wonder if I’ll ever stop wondering what the world means. Or if that’s what it’s supposed to feel like.
Day 7
Day 8: Gorath’s Journal
